


Watergirl

by EvelynsGrave



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Tragedy, Car Accidents, Dark, Flashbacks, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, What-If, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 16:20:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21664144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvelynsGrave/pseuds/EvelynsGrave
Summary: “I’m f-fine, it’s j-j-just really, really c-cold.”
Comments: 7
Kudos: 10





	Watergirl

Her little boy never listens. 

Sure, he’d put his grey and white beanie on, and his favorite grey gloves that were too big for him, but his jacket, his favorite grey jacket, it’s not gonna keep him warm in this weather but he wouldn’t listen. It’s lined with fleece on the inside and there’s a cute, round snowman with a carrot nose embroidered on the left side by the shoulder. He wears it in the fall and sometimes in the summer. She insisted that he wears a coat on top of it because it’s not warm enough for winter. He refused. 

Mothers know best. Now he’s shivering in his car seat, restless, hugging himself from time to time. 

The car’s sensor says that it’s 29 degrees outside. From the passenger seat, her husband turns up the dial of the heater to the max. 

“You ok, big boy?” Her husband peeks behind from the gap between them. She keeps her eyes on the road slippery with snow. 

“I’m f-fine, it’s j-j-just really, really c-cold.”

  
  


I’m fine.

  
  


  
  
  
  


It’s just really

  
  
  
  
  
  


_really_

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_cold_

  
  
  
  


_He said— or rather stammered— when Claire asked him how he’s doing in the backseat of their stolen sedan._

_He was always shivering so much that she could barely understand what he said half the time. Thank god for Claire who understood most of it. He used to make a lot of sense. He said positive things all the time that the very sound of his voice perked her up. Then he just started acting weird and confused. Was he turning? She asked Claire. No, Sherry, it’s that wound on his shoulder, he needs medicine, we need to find a hospital— that was her answer._

_They didn’t find a hospital, but they ran into an abandoned motel. The phones didn’t work. At least there was baby aspirin in the cupboard and an abandoned car. The backseat became his hospital bed._

_Claire drove fast and kept looking at him through the rear view mirror. She’d talk to him. He’d respond and his voice sounded like he’s always out of breath. He stuttered and moaned in discomfort. She recalled, he’d make a lot of requests, and Claire always made her do them because she’s busy behind the wheel. She’d tell her, he said the sun is too bright, it’s hurting his eyes— and she’d cover his eyes with a small towel; he’s thirsty, give him something to drink— she’d kneel next to him and give him small sips of water. Eventually, he choked on the smallest of sips, and she resorted to moistening the same small towel she’d covered his eyes with to dab it on his lips._

_Eventually, he stopped asking for water, but Claire told her to give him some anyway._

_She’d carefully position the rim of the water bottle on the corner of his mouth that was always open for he breathed through it. She’d pour a little bit of water in it. His mouth would open and close like a fish’s when it’s out of water. He’s too weak to choke on it anymore._

_His eyes have become glassy. He can barely open them. His skin was grey— except for the part near his shoulder. It was dark purple and weird, icky stuff came out of the wound there. Weird, icky, yellowy stuff and lots of blood._

_He painted the upholstery with it. _

_He used to look very handsome. It honestly made her feel ashamed of herself for finding him attractive and being a little jealous of Claire. When he was well, she’d see her touch him on the knee, on the thigh, she even caught her hand sliding higher that one time, and she had to look away. He always behaved like he wasn’t used to that kind of attention from girls, and he looked all the more handsome in her eyes for it. _

_Now all their attention’s on him indeed— for he stopped talking after responding to Claire’s question. _

_Claire stopped the car in the middle of the dirt road._

_She went to the backseat to cradle his head on her lap._

_“Lee?” She shook him. “Lee. Talk to me.” _

_He moved his head and shivered, but said nothing._

_“We’re close, I can feel it. We’re close to the city.”_

_What city? They’ve been driving for miles in pitch darkness and they’re still in the middle of nowhere. _

_She’s lying. Otherwise she’d keep driving to the “city” in full speed like a madman. _

_“You hear that? You hear the radio? We got signal,” she whispered close to his ear. “It’s your favorite station, see? They’re playing your type of music.”_

_Another lie. There’s nothing but static on the radio._

_Pills. She heard the rattle of pills in a bottle._

_“Hang on, I got you—“ Claire fumbled with a couple of baby aspirins on her palm. She pressed one on his tongue and it fell to the floor from the side of his mouth._

_Frustrated, Claire whimpered. _

_She climbed to the backseat._

_“Here, let me,” she offered. She took the other pill away from Claire’s palm and tucked it on the inside of his cheek._

_It didn’t fall off, but he didn’t swallow it either._

_Not without any water. _

_She reached for the bottle in the cup holder by the door. She poured a little on the side of his mouth like she used to. She watched the liquid spill out, cascading down to his cheek, creating a dark stain on the seat. _

_She tugged on the thin sheet from the motel that they covered him with to wipe the side of his face. She tucked him in. They hugged him tight. His eyes were closed, his breaths ragged, heavy, and irregular, his shivers too strong and frequent that they’d move with him as they held on tight._

_They fell asleep anyway. _

_When she woke up, he was looking at her, but he wasn’t blinking. _

_He wasn’t shivering anymore. _

_Last night he burned and trembled; now he’s cold and still._

_Claire sat frozen like a statue, save for a hand that kept caressing his forehead over and over like a broken machine. She didn’t cry. Her eyes stared at nothing. After a while, she stood up, opened the door, and tried to carry him outside. _

_“Help me,” she said to her, and there was a flash of anger and irritation on her face when she didn’t move because she was too scared to touch him. _

_She managed to drag him out on her own. _

_They left him on the prairie because they couldn’t dig a hole big and deep enough to put him in with their bare hands. _

_Claire drove and drove straight ahead and never turned her head sideways to her direction for hours. Neither did she, but her eyes were not focused on the road. _

_She stared at the rear view mirror. _

_She saw him. _

  
  


_He is_

  
  
  


_Looking back_

  
  


_At her_

  
  
  


_He’s_

  
  


A child?

  
  
  


## “WATCH OUT!!!”

  
  


The tires screech and the sound of car horns assaults her ears. 

“What’re you doing?!” 

To her right on the passenger seat, her husband looks at her with panic slowly steering toward bewilderment— then anger. 

She was going to run a stop light through heavy oncoming traffic— that’s what she was going to do. 

“Mommy...?” Behind them, her little boy weeps in the backseat. 

“Are you okay back there honey?” Her husband says. There’s something running down her face— warm, wet— she brings a hand up to wipe it off and now there’s a black smear on her white gloves. 

“Christ. Let me drive,” her husband quickly steps out and walks to the other side to get her off the driver’s seat. She watches him— he waits, and when she doesn’t get up right away, knocks angrily on the window a couple of times, prompting her to finally get out of the car to move to the passenger’s side. The sound of car horns and angry insults were blocked out as she closes the door. 

None of them spoke a word on the way home.

  
  


In her bathroom, she pops a pill in her mouth to make her numb.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a fever dream.


End file.
